


The Power Of Desire

by HouseOfFinches



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 14:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13273119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseOfFinches/pseuds/HouseOfFinches
Summary: Wanda tries some neuro-manipulation with Vision.





	The Power Of Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Just some quick fluff because I’m procrastinating my other story. 
> 
> Not yet edited so beware of typos, sorry!

“I want to try something..” she said, an odd intensity straining her voice. Her days were quiet, soft spoken, but with him she was self-assured, confident. Her insecurity unsettled him, a prick of concern coiling in his stomach.

It was late spring, and the warm darkness brought to life the nocturnal hum of insects and amber-lighted fireflies. Tonight they sourced their rendezvous outside, beyond the tree line that stretched the perimeter of the compound. Out of sight, hidden, their secret preserved.

Wanda was dressed casually, her face bare of the coal that usually lined her eyes, eyes that were staring at him, wide and intent.

Despite his anxiety, he knew he could deny her nothing. Her auburn hair was dark in the moonlight, a silky shroud that contrasted with her skin, alabaster, stark white in the pitch of night. She was beyond angelic: she was ethereal, the embodiment of stars themselves. Whatever she wanted, whatever she asked of him, he would deliver.

The depth of that feeling frightened him. He was no longer capable of objective reasoning. Moral lines were easily blurred in the name of love.

“What is it you want to try?” he asked, sinking his fingers into her hair to smooth a stray curl, the desire to touch her ever-present, its own natural law.

“I want to practice,” she paused, a sigh, and then slightly faster: “my powers. Specifically, the neuro part, what people see.” She sat cross-legged in front of him, staring at her hands as small sparks jumped from finger to finger, like static, her face somber.

“I’ve only used it to hurt people, to fish out their fears. I’ve never tried the opposite, to make people see their desires come to life. Not even with Pietro.” She fell quiet, hands stilling, resting in her lap.

Vision’s anxiety doubled: relinquishing control of his mind, his reality, was daunting. What would she find there, lost in the sea of his desires? Would the force of his feelings scare her away, deny him the sole focus of his wants?

“What if you see something you do not find agreeable, Wanda?” he queried, working hard to ease the sudden edge he felt in his voice.

She moved closer to him, head resting against his shoulder, arms serpentine around his waist.

“What could you possibly want that would scare me?” she asked into his sweater, the words light-hearted, genuine.

“I am not sure even _I_ fully understand the full expanse of my inclinations.” He drew her closer, the smell of her hair a faint citrus accentuated by the fresh foliage of the air.

“I understand if you don’t want to, Viszh. It was just an idea. I’m not sure I would even want to use it on others.” Again, her tone was light but the words pulled down the corerns of her mouth, just slightly. 

“What exactly does this entail?” He had heard of this power of hers though he had never seen it in person. The excerpts he picked up from his teammates made it clear it was very powerful—and very unpleasant.

“I don’t know how to explain it, really. It’s just sort of like a stream that starts small and then suddenly it’s a torrent of thoughts...” she trailed off, eyes unfocused, remembering the experience of divulging the secrets in others’ minds.

Perhaps it would be an interesting experiment, like when people used nitrous oxide at the dentist, a lucid dream state. Humans seemed to enjoy the occasional relinquishing of their minds (and bodies), maybe there was an appeal he could not understand until he experienced it himself.

He brought his mouth to her ear, giving his quiet consent before allowing his lips to trail down her neck. She let out a small gasp, leaning back before saying, “you’ll make it too hard for me to focus!”

She disentangled herself to sit before him again, taking a deep breath to seemingly focus her thoughts.

“Are you sure?” Her eyebrows were raised in unison with her question. Vision reached for her hands, placing a kiss along her fingers before giving a simple yes.

She closed her eyes, raising her hands in the space between them. Her long fingers glowed electric in the night, the delicate rings reflecting and twisting the red to pink, a mesmerizing swirl. 

His mind hummed, a spark that indicated her presence. Slowly, from his chest outward, he felt a warmth, like the sun’s rays breaking through a clouded sky. His vision went golden, beginning with something pleasantly nuanced, blurred shadows that he understood to be inviting, then sharpening.

Memories: the first time he saw her face, the icy gray of her eyes, curious and guarded; the first time he held her, her body hot against him, a surge of emotion as the city fell around them; the time he noticed her eyeing him from across the common room, eliciting a feeling he did not fully understand at the time, a self-consciousness lined with a yearning he had not yet named; the first time he felt her lips against his, the tremble of his hands against her body...

Images fell from his memory, a pouring of disconnected moments, all centered on her—her smile, her hand in his, her face in ecstasy, her sleeping body lying next to his. And there, at the center of it, that dormant desire: a timid question, that want of _future_ , of _more_. His desire was her entirely, yet he did not have the capacity to model it, to form the picture, each concept melting back to the gold of his mind, slipping, just out of reach.

What did the future hold for them? What life could he provide for her, what could keep her by his side forever? How could they balance a private life for themselves and still maintain the drive to make the world a better place?

The questions continued, the gold tones merging into a panic. _How do I tell her I love her?_

_I love her. How do I tell her I love her?_

And suddenly the connection was broken, his mind quieting and his focus back on the night, on the woman in front of him.

She stared up at him, incredulous, eyes glossed with tears.

“Vision... you love me?” It was a question though it stung like an accusation.

“Well... I...” He stammered. Was it not obvious from his actions alone? She was his whole world. He was created for a purpose—to protect humanity—and yet she gave that purpose meaning, gave him something concrete to safeguard.

She was in his arms then, her fingers laced along his neck, her mouth pressed fervently against his. He responded the only way his body knew how, meeting her kiss with equal passion, his hands roaming along her back. She broke the kiss with a sigh, lips against his neck, before whispering, “I love you, too.”

 

 


End file.
